


Jimmy Fucking Novak

by Trekiael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekiael/pseuds/Trekiael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many, many years prior, Dean met Jimmy Novak. At the time, he didn't realize how big of an impact that encounter would have on his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jimmy Fucking Novak

**Author's Note:**

> This is still Destiel, but it starts differently from canon.

His name is Jimmy.

 

He's a good kid. Good student, religious, nice, friendly, with ironed clothes and polished shoes. A bit on the skinny side, but not exactly gangly either. Impossibly huge blue eyes framed by thick dark eyelashes, full lips, high cheekbones, dark hair, pale skin, long neck, long fingers. Basically, he's the kind of unassuming kid that's fairly good looking on a discreet, still need to grow into his looks type.

 

Dean can't stand him. Alright, so part of the reason is because he's jealous as fuck of Mr Perfect. His own life sucks and he's not mature enough not to have petty feelings like these. But another, bigger part is due to his instincts telling him that Jimmy is a fucking liar and only playing the good kid font. Dean has good instincts, comes with having been a hunter his entire life, and his instincts are screaming at him not to trust the goodie-two-shoes façade.

 

Not that Dean actually plans on making friends with anyone. It's always the same. He and Sam enrol in a school, stay for a few weeks, a month, two months top, and back on the road again. Just enough time for Dean to fuck a few pretty girls and Sam to add new books to his collections. They're outcasts. There's something about Dean's attitude that keep people at distance, except girls looking for a bit of fun with the Bad Boy (secretly hoping they will be the one to change him, of course), enough that he doesn't get bullied. Sam is too nice, and a tiny little runt, so he's more easy of a target. But he can defend himself.

 

Still. Just because he's not staying and doesn't give a crap about making friends, doesn't mean that Dean doesn't build an opinion on people. Most of the time, he's grossed out by how freaking superficial teenagers are, with their useless drama and stupid rules. Sometimes he even wishes the school could get attacked by werewolves or something, so that they could get a taste of Dean's life. And yeah, sure, so that he could show them that he's not a fucking deadbeat loser too. Anyway, occasionally, though, there's that one kid that will catch his attention.

 

And this time, it's Jimmy Fucking Novak (James Christopher Novak, of his real name).

 

And right now, said Jimmy Novak is smiling while lowering his hand, happy about the praise the teacher just gave him for his overly accurate answer. However, from where he sits at the back and to the side of him, legs spread, chin in hand, Dean doesn't miss the little glint in Jimmy's eyes. He swears right then and there that he'll find out what' up with this kid before he gets to leave the town.

 

It's not until two days later that Dean catches the first sniff of the trail. He's flirting with Jenny, or Jeana, or Jane, or whatever her name is, in the corridor by the lockers when it happens. Just as he's on the verge of convincing her to come with him in the janitor's closet to make out (he's hoping at least second, if not third base), when he hears heavy footsteps and open sneers. Blinking, he turns his head to see a bunch on jocks (seriously, all schools are the freaking same), cornering a nerdy kid against the lockers. The kid looks frightens, clutching his books against his chest and backing away until his back meets metal.

 

Jenny or whatever momentarily forgotten, Dean looks, one eyebrow raised. One of the jocks knocks the books out of the nerd's hands, making him fumble and the others snicker. Dean rolls his eyes. Different schools, exact same shit. Shrugging, he goes to turn around and resume what he had been doing before, but stops at the sound of a familiar voice.

 

“I believe that's enough.”

 

There's a pause, a moment of complete silence, as Jimmy stares steadily at the jocks, hands on his hips, his chin raised. The bullies study him for a while, then glanced at each other. Finally, one of them steps forward.

 

“Look, Novak. We don't have no shit against you but get the fuck off that ain't no business of yours!”

 

“'We don't have anything against you but please leave because this doesn't concern you''

 

“...What?”

 

Dean pinches his lips to hold back a smirk. Jimmy is an arrogant ass but making fun of jocks' stupidity is still hilarious as fuck. Dammit. He doesn't want to give points to fuck-face Jimmy.

 

“I believe that one should express himself correctly if he wants to make his point across.”

 

Fucker. Dean knows damn well that for all the vocabulary he's got, Jimmy is not as prim and proper in his speech as he pretends to be. He's just toying with them.

 

“Whatever! He told you to get lost, bitch!”

 

The bigger, taller, but obviously not the leader friend of the first speaker steps forward to defend him, looming over Jimmy, who only straightens his back.

 

“No. Not until you let Jason go.”

 

Jason, Dean supposes that's the name of the nerd, is currently pinned in place by one of the jock's hand on his shoulder, and staring at his shoes. It makes Dean angry. Kids that can't stand for themselves at all are just easy targets for every nasty shit out there and make Dean wanna shake them until they grow a backbone.

 

Jimmy, at least, has balls.

 

The giant that spoke last, clearly having some serious anger management issues (and that's coming from Dean himself), snarls and uses both of his giant paws to push at Jimmy's small shoulders, hard, sending him crashing against the lockers too with a deafening bang.

 

“Oi!”

 

It takes a second for Dean to realize that he's the one that spoke. Shit. He didn't want to get involved. But apparently his instincts draw the line at physical assault and he can't stand watching and do nothing. After a small mental kick, he straightens his back and grabs Jane's hand to pull her behind himself. The jocks, obviously not having expected another interuption, not from him, look at him then. Dean keeps his face blank, only lets his eyes slide to Jimmy, who's slumping with his chin against his chest.

 

“What do you want, pretty boy?”

 

“A pretty girl sucking my prick. New rims for my wheels. Homemade pie... But right now, I want you jerkfaces to scram, so I can finally get laid.”

 

Jane apparently is not very happy about that last comment and huffs, punching him lightly in the back and walking away. Dean sighs while the guys snicker.

 

“Look what you did. Now I'll have to bang one of your girlfriend.”

 

The jocks stop snickering at that and glare. Dean thinks he hears Jimmy make a noise, but when he looks at him Jimmy's face is blank.

 

“The fuck did you say, faggot?!”

 

“I sai-”

 

The bell rings. Everyone stills. The jocks snarl.

 

“This is not over, bitch.”

 

One of the jock slaps the side of Jason's face on his way off, another pushing against Jimmy's shoulder while a third bumps his shoulder into Dean's. Immediately, Jimmy turns to ask Jason if he's alright and Dean sighs, bending to pick up his bag before approaching the two.

 

“Don't play hero if you can't defend yourself, dumbass.”

 

Jimmy looks back at him, then. Dean has never been so close to him before and dammit his eyes are so freaking blue.

 

“Oh? And can you?”

 

Dean smirks at that, but doesn't answer. Jimmy stares for a little while longer and shakes his head.

 

“It doesn't matter. I can't let someone suffer and sits idly by. This is not God's way.”

 

“Fuck God.”

 

Jimmy goes very, very still. His tone is icy when he speaks next.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“I said: Fuck. God. If that fucker exists, and that's a fucking big 'if', he can shove his 'way' up his giant ass until he chokes.”

 

Jimmy looks astonished at that, eyes wide and lips parted. But then he frowns, and he doesn't look angry anymore, just sad. Dean can recognize pity when he sees it and he wants to punch Jimmy's pretty face. He doesn't need pity. All these people, they don't fucking get it. Dean knows, he fucking knows and they're the idiots, not him.

 

“Dean..., you-”

 

“Save it.”

 

He doesn't say anything more and turns on his heels. He doesn't need to hear it. He doesn't need a lesson for Mr Perfect, of all fucking people. He tugs his bag higher on his shoulder and walks faster. He wants to get out of there. He fucking hates high schools. Not much the classes, even if he's generally lost because he can't really keep up with the program, since he actually doesn't mind learning all that much. But the students. The rules. The fucking lie this entire shit is. He can't stand it. He doesn't get why he still got to do this when he should be helping their Dad on hunts, where he belongs.

 

**

 

For three other days, things are back to as normal as they can be in that momentary life. Dean goes to class, manages to get to first base with Jane that came around (apparently, she digs the Bad Boy vibe more than some others. But that doesn't mean she's gonna make it easy for Dean), and still keeps an eye on Jimmy.

 

On the third day, he goes back to the motel after class, walking across the park, when he finally sees it. He's glad Sam decided to stay at the library because he wouldn't have wanted him to get involved. He doesn't barge in right away, and simply observe quietly from his spot beside the tree. Jimmy is still in his perfectly ironed clothes and the jocks are still in their jerseys, like no time has passed since three days ago (then again, Dean is still in denim and plaid and leather jacket).

 

The strange thing is that the jocks are being very threatening, taunting and dominating Jimmy with their heights, but Jimmy is not scared. On the contrary, there's something challenging about his look. Dean can't hear what is being said, but it's obvious things are going to get nasty, and fast. The punch Jimmy recieves in his stomach makes him double over, and Dean almost intervenes right away. But he bites his lip and forces himself to wait.

 

Except... Jimmy doesn't do anything. He gets punched on more time across the temple, and once he's down, gets kicked a few times, but there's no change. Dean frowns. Jimmy raises his head, looks up at the guys, and smiles. Fucking hell, he's fucking crazy, that's what he is. Figuring that enough is enough, Dean finally steps in.

 

“Alright, that's enough.”

 

The jocks' heads snap to glower at him and Dean simply drops his bag and cracks his neck. These guys are big, but they're just human. It's going to be more difficult to be careful not to go for the weak points and actually kill them than beat the crap out of them. There's no words exchanged this time, and they charge. Dean avoids the first punch and blocks the second one, immediately reciprocating with a punch in the sternum that makes the first guy crash, wheezing. The second goes down straight to K.O. with a single punch on the jaw. Third and fourth sandwich him and manage to secure a punch each, but they're weak, unprecise, not used to fighting, and Dean is immuned to pain.

 

Like most fights, they're over before you realize it, and Dean is only breathing slightly more heavily when he's done. At least he didn't kill any of them, but he broke a few bones. These guys are popular athletes and he's just an outsider, so he knows he's gonna get shit for that, but he doesn't give a crap. Also, as long as he won and isn't hurt himelf, neither will their Dad.

 

“Why didn't you do anything you fucking dumbass?”

 

Jimmy spits some blood and smiles up at him, raising his hand to silently ask for help getting up. Dean clasps it and pulls Jimmy to his feet, but he's not particularly gentle about it.

 

“They wouldn't have killed me. And I knew I would be protected, one way or another. And I was.”

 

Dean stares. Is that guy for real?

 

“Are you like, a psychic or something?”

 

Jimmy laughs at that, for quite a long moment. When he stops, he's grinning at Dean and shaking his head.

 

“No, Dean. I'm not. I just have Faith.”

 

“Faith? In what? God?”

 

Jimmy nods, still smiling.

 

“Yes, Dean. In God. And particularly in Angels.”

 

Dean makes a disgusted face at that. Alrght, God, nothing new there. But angels? There's actually people that believe in the feathery dudes? Wow. Jimmy really is fucking nuts.

 

“Yeah, right. Keep thinking angels are gonna save you and you'll end up killed. Ain't gonna always be there to protect you you fucking idiot.”

 

Jimmy smiles, and says nothing. Dean frowns, uncomfortable. He has the strange feeling that Jimmy knows more than he lets on. But he knows that it can't be right, that he's just batshit crazy. It's not often, but his guts and his brain are telling him two different things.

 

“You're a really good fighter, Dean. Where did you learn to fight like that?”

 

Dean shrugs, the lie easy on his tongue by now.

 

“Come from the slumbs. Gotta learn to fight early.”

 

They're walking together now. Dean doesn't know how that happened and why, but apparently Jimmy wants to come with. Honestly, Dean doesn't want him to, but he prefers that to leave him open in case the guys come back.

 

“You don't fight like someone fighting for their live, though, you fight like a predator.”

 

Dean freezes for half a second. This is so fucking accurate and how the hell does Jimmy know that kind of stuff? Fuck, he really doesn't get that guy.

 

“Whatcha doing there anyway? Don't you live like, in the nice suburbs or something?”

 

Jimmy smiles that mysterious smile again.

 

“Because this is where you were going to be be when the time was going to be right.”

 

Well. There's no answer to that, is there?

 

“And now? Why are you following me?”

 

He really should stop asking questions to that guy.

 

“Because you want me to be.”

 

Yeaaaah. Whatever. Dean feels himself flush and godammit why is he fucking blushing?! That's just fucking stupid. Ridiculous. What the freaking fucking hell. But his eyes slide to Jimmy's face, still calm, tranquil, relaxed, and smiling up at him with those stupid stupid eyes and for some reason he blushes harder.

 

“Whatever. Go home you stupid psycho. I ain't offering you a beer.”

 

Jimmy laughs.

 

**

 

Dean doesn't get it. How the hell did he go from wanting to find out what the hell is wrong with that fucking kid to let's hang out all the time. Because that's what's going on now. Dean never gets to be alone anymore, since everywhere he goes, Jimmy is with him. He never noticed before that Jimmy, while getting along with just about everyone, doesn't have any real friend. And apparently, Dean is that, now. Which is freaking sad, since he's gonna leave any time now, but it happened so naturally that Dean couldn't have prevented it. One day he was living his normal life, and the next Jimmy was sitting next to him and offering him a sandwich while striking a conversation about angels and their names and ranks. Or something. Dean didn't really listen.

 

Deep, deep, deeeeep down, though, he knows why he allows it. Well there's the fact that Jimmy is uncomplicated (even if he's fucking mysterious as hell) and makes things simple, a casual friendship that yeah, Dean might have craved for that a little bit. But the true, real reason is that, while Jimmy's personality tends to get on his last nerves, what with all the preaching and goodi-two-shoes thing, his face is... well. Very, very, very deep deep deep down Dean is kinda a little maybe somewhat weak to that face. Possibly.

 

It's just... He knows his own face is way too pretty for a dude. He hopes he's gonna grow into something manlier because that's just a major pain in the ass and he gets hit on by old perverts and no one takes him seriously. It's good for getting laid, at least. But anyway, he knows how he looks, but it's the first time he met a dude that looked completely different from him and yet was so fucking pretty he was actually painful to look at. And Dean doesn't /want/ to look. Guy is a fucking dude, dammit. But even when he tries to not-look, he stills gets caught off guard by sunlight reflecting in those stupid blue eyes or the way those full lips part to show a wide smile and very white teeth.

 

And so, the dreams start.

 

The first one has him panic so badly he doesn't go to school for two days straight, until Dad kicks him out of the motel and tell him he has no time for teenage angst. And if it wasn't for his stupid pride, Dean would have run away the next time Jimmy comes towards him, asking about his health. All day, Dean's eyes drift to Jimmy's lips, pieces of the dream and where those stupid lips were wrapped flashing in the back of his mind.

 

The second one, he almost expects. He managed to calm down and recover from the first one, just the thoughts never really left. So when he wakes up archingly hard, he doesn't panic, but almost cries and seriousy consider begging his Dad to drop the case and leave as far away as possible. That day, he pops a fucking boner in the middle of the lab when Jimmy bends over to takes something from his bag. He spends the rest of the lab firmly glued to his chair willing his boner down and trying not to think too hard about Jimmy's ass and the things he would like to do to it. He doesn't really succeed.

 

He gives up at the third dream. He wakes up in the middle of the night, with the last tendrils of his dream still clinging to his counsciousness, and can't take it anymore. He jerks off quietly to the image of Jimmy riding him like his Faith is located in Dean's cock. In his dream, Jimmy comes with a loud shout and a clench around Dean's prick. In reality, Dean comes silently, teeth clenched, with his own hand clenchign down hard. That day, Dean almost gives in and pushes Jimmy against the lockers to kiss him. The only thing that prevents him from doing so is the fact that as soon as Jimmy starts talking, in that soft, eery voice of his, Dean remembers that he doesn't really like the guy. And that he doesn't even like guys in the first place.

 

But it's also the day everything changes.

 

For the first time since that day, Dean spends his lunch alone. He tries not to think too hard about where the fuck Jimmy is, and convinces himself that he doesn't give a crap. Just because apparently his dick is into the fucker doesn't mean Dean himself is. So it's an entire coincidence that he finds himself walking around the building, instincts having called him there. He's not really all that surprised to see the jocks, or at least two of them, cornering Jimmy there. Dean sighs and drops his bag.

 

But then something happens. Jimmy speaks, but his voice is fucking different. Deeper.

 

“Please, do not make me hurt you.”

 

There's something very, very different about him. And when the first punch is aimed, it's blocked easily in an iron grip, until the guys is kneeling at Jimmy's feet. The look in Jimmy's eyes makes something tighten in Dean's back. The second guy attacks, then, and Jimmy simply touches his forehead with two fingers before the guy is out, dropping like a rock. Jimmy releases the first guy who goes scrambling away, screaming about a monster.

 

The word makes Dean stiffen. So this is it. This is the answer. Jimmy really is a fucking monster and has been playing Dean all along. How fucking stupid. He should have known. Dammit, he should have fucking known.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

“Let me guess, vamp? Wraith? Shapeshifter?”

 

Jimmy merely tilts his head to the side and smiles. It's not a Jimmy smile. It's awkward, only a corner of his mouth lifting.

 

“Not exactly.”

 

Jimmy, or whatever the hell that is, steps forward. Dean immeditely goes for the silver knife he keeps tucked in the back of his pants and takes it out. 'Jimmy' doesn't stop until he's standing right in Dean's personal space, looking up at him with eyes that seem even bluer now and an intensity that Jimmy never had. And fucking hell, that shouldn't make something in Dean's groin tighten.

 

“I'm not here to hurt you, Dean. I'm here to warn you. Your father needs you, right now.”

 

Dean tenses. His voices is strangled when he speaks next.

 

“What?”

 

'Jimmy' doesn't even blink.

 

“I will take you to him.”

 

Dean doesn't have the time to answer. Next thing he knows, two fingers are pressed to his forehead and he's standing in a forest, close to a runned down wooden shack.

 

“Be careful. Also, thank you for taking care of Jimmy. I know he liked the time spent with you.”

 

Not-Jimmy's smile is softer, with his lips closed. But his eyes... There's so much innocence in there, and yet, those are the eyes of someone that just... knows. Dean can't explain it, and has no time to think about it, because next thing he knows, Not-Jimmy is gone, and he's standing alone in the forest. Well, not quite alone, because he hears a car door slam and voices coming closer.

 

Dean hides and peaks around the corner to check what the hell is going on. What he sees makes his blood run cold. Two guys are framing his unconscious dad and dragging him towards the cabin. Dena curses silently. This is not like Dad. He's the best hunter there is, and doesn't make mistakes. The front door opens and closes and Dean goes back to lean against the wall. His heart is pounding in his chest. He has his knife, still in his hand, and as discreetly as possible, takes his gun from its hidden pocket in his bag. But he's alone, has no plan, and doesn't even know what the fuck he's supposed to hunt.

 

He avoids twigs and tries not to crush dry leaves too much as he slither to the window, and takes a glance inside. His dad is on the couch, carelessly dropped, and the two guys are talking to a beautiful woman with long, firy red hair. She's wearing a long red dress and holding a parchment scroll while ordering the guys to fetch this and that ingredient for her. A witch. A fucking witch. Dammit, Dean hates witches.

 

“Mistress, for a wild boar spinal cord I need to hunt one.”

 

“Then what are you waiting for?”

 

The guy bows and exits, taking a rifle with him on the way out. Dean crosses his finger that he's not gonna get caught, but thankfully the guy doesn't even glance back and disappears in the forest. The second guy leaves shortly after, and Dean missed what he said, but he takes the car. Now is Dean's best chance. Except that... She's a witch. Might be just a beginner but Dean isn't that lucky. If he just barges in, she's gonna peel the skin out of his face before he can even raise his knife. He needs a distraction. He glances around. Mostly, there's junk. Empty beers bottles, car parts, shit like that. His gaze falls on a big jug, though. Or more precisely, on what he can make out from what's inside of it. He smirks. Jackpot.

 

Everything happens quickly after that, and he can still hear the screams of the witch over the flames as he drags his Dad away, limping a little because that bitch got him in the leg. His Dad is somewhat conscious, but obviously dizzy. Dean doesn't know how long it's gonna take to get out of there, and hopes he's not going to lose consciousness from blood loss before that. He almost weeps with joy when he discovers the Impala, doors open, in the middle of the road, a couple hours later.

 

**

 

Dean sighs as he exits their Dad's room with Sam. Their Dad is still sedated, but Dean knows it's only a matter of time before he wakes up and complains about being in a hospital. Then he's gonna ask for explanations. Explanations that Dean doesn't have.

 

“You really shouldn't be walking, Dean.”

 

“Shut up, shrimp, I'm fine.”

 

Sam sighs and rolls his eyes. Dean glances at him and smiles a little before reaching for his head and messing his hair, making him shriek and battle his hands off. Truth is, Dean calls him a shrimp, because he fucking is, but there's something in the size of his hands and feet that tells him he's not gonna stay that way for long. Which is not a big deal as long as he stays shorter than Dean himself.

 

He hums as he stops by the coffee machine, while Sam grumbles and tries to put his hair back into place. The machine bips just as the elevator door does, and Dean automatically glances at the later. What he doesn't expect, though, it's to see Jimmy exit it. He straightens up and frowns. He knows it's Jimmy. Something in the way he holds himself is different from the Not-Jimmy thing that helped him.

 

“Sam. You stay here.”

 

Sam looks up, confused, then chims.

 

“Ooooh, your boyfriend, right?”

 

Dean flushes and slaps the back of his head, making Sam snicker. Then he marches forward, snatching Jimmy by the elbow and dragging him to another corridor, smaller, and empty. Jimmy lets him. Once Dean stops, he rounds on Jimmy and pushes him against the wall with one hand on his chest. Jimmy simply smiles.

 

“What the fuck was that?”

 

“You are not ready for that answer, Dean.”

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean??”

 

Jimmy keeps on smiling.

 

“One day, you will.”

 

Dean growls and pushes Jimmy.

 

“I can't fucking stand you, you son of a bitch.”

 

Jimmy's smile turns a little sad, then, and Dean should feel victorious. He feels like a dick instead.

 

“I know.”

 

Then the smile is back, almost as bright as previously.

 

“But you like my face, right?”

 

Dean pales before turning bright red.

 

“Wha-”

 

He doesn't even finish before Jimmy is reaching forward, cupping his cheek and brushing his lips against his. Dean tenses, but Jimmy doesn't do anything else, only whispers against his lips.

 

“Goodbye, Dean. It was nice meeting you.”

 

And just like that, Jimmy is gone from Dean's life. Taking his mystery along with him, as well as his blue, blue eyes, full lips, and perfect ass.

 

**

 

Many, many years later, Dean is waiting. The barn is full of sigils of all kinds, and he's as ready as he'll ever be for whatever's coming their way. Bobby is restless too. And finally, it happens. The barn shakes, sparkles burst everywhere, and the thing, whatever that is, steps in. Dean doesn't even think before stabbing is knife straight into the guy's heart. But as soon as his gaze meets the deep, deep blue one of the monster, his eyes widen.

 

“Jimmy...”

 

'Jimmy' smiles. His lips part and fuck it's that fucking voice.

 

“Not exactly.”

 

Little does Dean know, this is the day his life takes a fucking drastic turn. Or maybe it was a day, so many years ago, when his calculating eyes fell on Jimmy Fucking Novak's way-too-pretty's face.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The witch is inspired from Melisandre of GoT.


End file.
